


An Ordinator's Tail

by Ink_and_Quill1678



Series: An Ordinator's Tail [1]
Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, elderscrolls
Genre: Action, Drama, Dunmer - Freeform, Fanfiction, Gen, elderscrolls - Freeform, fim, my little pony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_and_Quill1678/pseuds/Ink_and_Quill1678
Summary: Methal faces life choices which takes him from Morrowind during the 3rd Era to Equestria. Now in an unfamiliar land and body he finds a Prince that needs his help.





	1. Part I

An Ordinator’s Tail.  
3rd Era 352  
Methal Dres stood in surprise at the sudden guest that stood with his father in the main study. His father and guest turned to him seconds after he entered. His father wore an expression only reserved when things were going badly at the saltrice fields or when he and his brothers were caught doing something wrong. Methal looked from his father to the guest that now started to walk toward him. The Dunmer that approached him was a little taller than himself. Small scars lined the Dunmer’s face and arms. As he continued to walk toward him he noticed a slight limp. The guest stopped a few inches short of Methal, then began to slowly walk around him. Methal glanced skeptically at the Dunmer as he circled him.  
“Father, what is this all about?” Methal protested looking back at his father now. He felt he was like a guar put on for show at a market.  
His father, jaw clenched walked over to the bar and poured a drink raised the glass and swallowed its contents quickly.  
“You have been chosen Methal.” His father answered with only a slight cough, “Our guest is from the Temple.”  
By now the Dunmer had completed his inspection turned to Methal’s father and gave an approving nod.  
“I’ll be back in a week’s time to pick him up for his training. Just remember that he will only be able to take two changes of clothing and one personal item.” The Dunmer stated flatly, then turned back to Methal gave him another cursory glance then promptly turned and walked out of the study.  
Methal could not believe what he was hearing. The Temple was supposed to pick from house Hlaalu this year, not his. Methal quickly closed the gap between them feeling his anger flare.  
“Father this is absurd!” Methal spat.  
His father shook his head in disgust while pouring himself another drink, turned and faced his son and motioned to a chair. Methal, chest heaving, jaw clenched reluctantly sat down. His father sat across from him downing the drink.  
“Son, regardless if you want to go or not you have no cho- “  
“Father you know I was to marry this year!” Methal yelled out, “You know that we have been planning this wedding with Nephelle Hlaalu for the past two years!!” Methal now stood and started to pace angrily, “What am I to do? Become a priest?” Methal stopped pacing facing his father now, “Priests don’t get married nor can they own land by Tribunal law!!”  
“But Ordinators can and do.” His father replied now fondling the glass in his hand his tone forceful.  
Methal started to say something but soon found his mouth dry. He sat again placing his head in his hands. His father on the other hand let what he said sink in during this silence.  
“Methal…Son, Nephelle’s father didn’t approve of your marriage so he must have pulled some strings.” His father said now holding the glass with both hands, “You know that if you would have married her you would have been a part of house Hlaalu, the only thing I can think of is that he used that as an excuse to get rid of you. Since the wedding was going to take place this year the Temple would not have cared either way.” His father’s voice sounded calm but still carried with it an air of concern, “You are going to be an Ordinator whether you like it or not.” His father now stood walked back to the bar but this time pulled another glass out, “Azura must have a sense of humor only her and other Daedra must comprehend.” His father said pouring drinks, “But remember to be faithful to her son. She will watch as you serve the Tribunal.” His father returned and handed him the drink, Methal looked up at his father and took the glass, his father sat across from him then finished with, “The Mother of the Rose is the Daedric prince of change and transition. This must be your transition.”  
Methal held his drink while looking at his father, then took a sip.  
“But not of my choice father.” Methal responded coldly after swallowing.  
“Son you will find that most changes in your life are not of your doing.” His father answered back, “Don’t think of this as a failing, think of it as an opportunity. If anything, our family has turned misfortune into fortune by sheer will alone and the blessings of Azura.” His father reached out and placed his calloused hand on Mathal’s shoulder, “And this will be no different for you as well.”  
***  
The next week passed by quickly, far quicker than Methal had predicted. During that week he spent time with his brothers making sure that they would have something to remember him by. After all, ordinators were prone to die at an early age depending on where they were assigned. Especially the ghost fence. That was a prospect he did not look forward to.   
But for now he stood with Tsavi his Khajiit attendant at the long walk to his mansion, both dressed at the finest awaiting his love Nephelle. She was a striking woman. He had met her some years before when his father had business with house Hlaalu, they wanted to purchase land and slaves for saltrice farming. The most profitable lands belonged to his house, it not only provided a sizeable amount of food for the local areas but also as an ingredient for the local beverage mazte. He still remembered being told to entertain her. How he imagined that she would bear a horrible resemblance to her father. A large and unsightly Dunmer. Thankfully she looked more like her late great aunt. Short mud red hair, sharp angular features common to their people. Eyes dull red like rubies. He remembered how he had done his best that day to hide his hands, he feared she would mistake him for a servant and not one born of a noble house. His father made he and his brothers work the fields along with the Argonians. This served two purposes, the first was to teach them how to properly care and grow the saltrice. The second was to enforce a good work ethic from the slaves, it made it easier make sure they weren’t being sloth in their duties.   
He was brought back from his memories to the sound of the horse and carriage coming from the road. He fidgeted straitening his shirt and collar.  
“Young master you look well enough…oh string!” Tsavi corrected herself. She quickly whipped her claw out and cut it then brushed it away. “Now you look handsome!”  
“Thank you.” Methal nodded standing straighter now, “I want this night to be perfect…”  
“And it will be young master be calm! Remember as I taught you. Poise young sir! Poise!” Tsavi instructed taking a dignified stance and look, “Look how my tail is relaxed and not swaying back and forth.”   
“And if I had a tail I am sure it would be fluffed out and swinging wildly.” Methal remarked smirking.  
“I am inclined to agree. Oh here she comes! Poise young sir!” Tsavi instructed again.  
The carriage drew closer then stopped at the foot of the walk. The driver stepped down and quickly opened the door. Nephelle extended her hand from the door way in turn Methal grasp gently leading her out. Her dress a subdued gold color her hair now longer pulled back into two separate locks which rejoined at the back of the collar. Methal bowed and kissed her hand. Then raised up smiling drawing her close taking her other hand into his.  
“Oh how I have missed you dear Nephelle.” Methal said giving her delicate hands a squeeze.  
“And I as well love.” Nephelle said giving a coy smile.  
Tsavi cleared her throat.  
“Dinner will be served in a few minutes’ young master do not keep your father waiting.”  
Both looked at Tsavi acknowledge her and proceeded to the mansion. After dinner Methal took her to the gazebo in his backyard and sat with Nephelle holding her close, telling her of his plans.  
“After a few months I will send for you and then we can marry at the temple of Vivec.” Methal assured her, “I have looked into it and that is where most members serving the Tribunal perform the ceremony.”  
Nephelle’s eyes lit up she sat up and clapped her hands together excitedly.  
“Oh I cannot wait!” Nephelle gushed, “I will be living in the capital of Vvardenfell!”  
“And I with you.” Methal said placing his arms around her resting his head on her shoulder, “My only regret is that I only have this one night with you until then.”  
Nephelle smiled sweetly at him, leaned in for a kiss, she took him by the chin and whispered after drawing back,  
“Then let us make this night a memorable one my love.”  
***  
The next day the same Dunmer who had come to inspect him arrived late that morning. His brothers, father and Tsavi stood at the door to bid him farewell. Methal hugged his brothers while placing his small bag down as he wished them each well. His father stoic extended his hand when Methal came to him. They shook hands, his father’s grip like that of an ogrim.  
“Good luck son.”  
“I will make you proud I promise.”  
His father clenched his jaw and patted his son on the shoulder, then went back inside of the mansion. Tsavi walked up to him straightened his shirt and looked at him adoringly.  
“Young Methal, I will say what your father cannot. I know you will make us proud.” Tsavi purred, the use of his first name taking him off guard, “Your mother as well if she were still with us. I have watched you and your brothers grow from trouble making boys into strong and honorable Dunmeri. Because today I take my leave from your house and go back to the imperial city.”  
Methal looked on as Tsavi’s ears went flat a tears welling up in her eyes. Her tail swishing back and forth.  
“Poise Tsavi.” Methal responded a tear running down his cheek, “Always poise.”  
Tsavi nodded stood straighter. Ears now raised attentively her tail once again still.  
“Warm sands to you my cub. Warm sands… always.”  
Methal bowed slightly to her sniffed and followed the older Dunmer to the coach that was waiting for him.  
End of part I


	2. An Ordinator's Tail Part II

An Ordinator’s Tail  
Part II  
They traveled the rest of the day he and the old Dunmer. The trip would have been better if older Dunmer had tried to converse with him. Methal tried to start conversation several times. Only to be answered with either a grunt or low growl. They arrived at a port northeast by the Inner Sea then boarded a ship to Vvardenfell. The journey took the rest of the night. When Methal awoke the ship was pulling into port at the Ebonheart. They disembarked, ate a small meal at the local tavern. Methal couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being scrutinized every second. The old Dunmer had eaten but his eye never seemed to leave him. After they ate they walked through the small city area. Then took the road north to the city of Vivec.   
Each district was separated into large island or canton. Some contained Market areas, others held living spaces. You would travel by bridge to reach a new canton. They crossed the bridge leaving the Hlaalu compound and headed through the Redoran compound crossed another bridge and entered the High Fane, the temple in the city of Vivec.   
Two ordinators wearing full armor stood at the gate they never looked at them the entire time. They entered the main area, open with a few potted plants and trees sitting with in it. The temple sat behind the atrium. Methal noticed that there were others as well all standing in line shoulder to shoulder four men and five women. The bags they brought with them sitting near a potted tree.  
“Join the other nine.” The older Dunmer ordered pointing.  
Methal walked over placed his bag with the others and stood in line.  
The old Dunmer looked at them all and gave a nod and left. He walked toward the temple behind them. A few minutes passed and an Ordinator wearing full armor with two others holding various bottles and a sack marched toward them. They stopped in front of them. The first one took a step forward looked at all of them. Even through the eyes of the light gold helm Methal could feel the intensity of his gaze.  
“All of you strip. NOW!” The lead Ordinator barked.  
Everyone in line looked at one another embarrassed at the very thought.  
“I will not say it again!” The lead Ordinator yelled out taking a threatening step toward them, “Or so help me I will rip the clothes from you myself!”  
Reluctantly they all started to undress.  
“All of it now! No undergarments!” The lead Ordinator ordered.  
They all now stood naked each doing their best to cover themselves.  
“Did I tell you to cover up?!? No I didn’t! Arms down at your sides hands open! Do it!” The lead Ordinator ordered as he started to walk around them.  
The second Ordinator holding the bottles walked to each of them and handed them two bottles each.  
“Drink!” The Ordinator passing out the bottles ordered.  
Each drank the contents of the bottles. Methal did his best not to retch the fluids tasted as if they had been fermented in a sewer.  
The third Ordinator then walked in front of each of them and pulled a scoop of powder from the bag and threw it at each of them. Then walked behind them and repeated the process. Methal realized it was delousing powder  
“Now that you are healthy and disease free turn around and walk to the temple. Single file!” The lead Ordinator commanded.  
They all haphazardly formed a line.  
“Follow me.” The lead Ordinator commanded turning curtly walking toward the temple.  
They all followed the Ordinator through the large golden doors of the temple. Other ordinators stood at various posts all ignored them or gave a quick glance at the spectacle before them. The lead Ordinator took them past the main area and then lead them down a hallway which ended in a large door full of beds with trunks at the foot of each and a stand at the back.  
The lead Ordinator walked to the center of the room.  
“Women to the left, men to the right. Stand next to your bed.” The lead Ordinator barked.  
They all picked a bed and stood next to it. The lead Ordinator then walked to the door of the room, turned to them and spoke,  
“Sleep. Training will begin soon. Three Gods. One true faith.”  
With that the lead Ordinator left the room.  
Methal looked around the near vacant room save the other Dunmer basic needs. One by one they all slipped into their own beds and went to sleep. Methal had trouble as he listened to the sound of the others light breathing. Eventually he said a quiet prayer to Azura for strength for the trials he would soon face. He felt a little less nervous and drifted off into sleep.  
***  
The next morning a large snap followed by a loud boom awoke them all. Some jumped out of their beds startled at the sound Methal had rolled from his bed and hit the floor crouching behind it for some sort of cover. Three Ordinators in full armor stood at the doorway the lead holding his hand up the magicka still crackling around his gauntleted closed fist.  
“Now that you are all up, listen and listen well.” The lead Ordinator ordered lowering his hand letting it rest on the hilt of his ebony mace as he walked down the center of the aisle, “As I am sure you have noticed there are no mirrors in this bed chamber.” He stopped as he reached the center, “The reason for this is that face you have seen your whole life will no longer be the face that others will see.” The lead Ordinator then pointed to his helmet with mask, “This is the face that you will wear from this day forward. It is the face that upholds Tribunal law, it is this same face that criminal scum, loathsome Daedra and enemies of the Tribunal will learn to fear. This. Is. Your. Face.”  
As the lead Ordinator finished one of the others left the room and pushed in a rack with armor, helmets, pants and boots.  
“You will now start wearing the sacred armor that we Ordinators wear every day of our lives. You will be taught up keep and cleaning of its blessed ebony. Because today you are Ordinators. Three Gods. One true faith.”  
***  
After four months of intensive study, combat training and spell casting the last day of training arrived. All six stood by their beds in full armor. The other four had been dismissed either due to injury or failing to up hold the standards set forth by the lead trainer. Methal stood with the others as the lead trainer walked down the aisle inspecting each of them. The lead trainer nit-picked as he always did either complaining that too much polish was used or not enough. After performing his last inspection, the lead Ordinator stood and handed out letters.  
“These are your assignments, after you see where you are assigned to you will then leave by silt strider. You will have two days to get quarters and then begin your duties to the Tribunal. You will find your things by the door with your name tag on them. Good luck to all of you.” The lead Ordinator said as he finished handing out the letters.  
They all eagerly took the notes with their names on them. Methal took his, closed his eyes silently praying that he did not get the Ghost Gate. He opened it and let out a sigh.   
He was assigned to the city of Balmora at the local temple. He left promptly grabbing his bag.  
***  
By the late afternoon he arrived at Balmora. He stepped down the long stairs from the silt strider checking his map and walked to the Temple toward the back on the hill. He walked up the steps past the priests that stood cleaning the front of the building and entered. He received his quarters from the captain of the guard. He was shown a small room with a bed, window, armor stand and desk with small mirror. He got settled in placed his armor on the stand and changed clothing. Methal wanted to get a good look at the city since he only had a map to go by. Besides it would give him the upper hand during investigations or chasing after petty thieves that would run. After he dressed he stopped and looked into the mirror. He flipped it face down before he left for the night.  
He spent most at the night at the corner club. It was a small eatery the food was decent he supposed but the drinks were wonderful. He hadn’t had a good mazte in a while. He found out that most of it actually came from his farm. He finished his meal and drink paid for it then left to go back to his room. Methal walked through the commercial area past the guild halls one was a fighter’s guild the other the mages. Both did work for the town and private citizens that could pay. He was surprised to find out that a Hlaalu council house also was in town. He made sure to stop by and sent a message to Nephelle. It would be good to hear from her.   
As he entered his room he opened the desk and found paper, ink and quill and sat down and wrote a letter to her. The message he sent was just letting her know where he was currently posted at. He would drop it off during his shift. After he finished the letter to her, he wrote one to his father and brothers and one to Tsavi as well. They weren’t allowed to write to anyone during training and he often wanted too. Things would change now since he lived here now. Not the most glamorous of places but it was a start.  
***  
He walked the streets of Balmora at night for the last two months and received letters from home and Tsavi. But none from Nephelle. He knew it would take some time for the letters to arrive but it was still heart rending not to hear from his love. His thoughts often dwelled on her during his night watch. He even looked into the pricing of housing. All affordable and if not it wasn’t like he couldn’t borrow from his father. For now, he was returning back to the temple after patrolling the streets during the night. Only one prowler found, he arrested him confiscated his stolen goods and received the fine. He pushed the evenings events from his mind as his captain stopped him as he walked up the steps.  
“Good I found you! We are to report to the Hlaalu council house for a special reception.” The captain said.   
“Well I was hoping to get some sleep but then again I suppose we can sleep when we die eh muthsera?” Methal asked jokingly.  
“Our work is never done besides I’ll make sure you have the night off for doing this, Dram will take your place, Vivec knows he needs to work the night shift for once.” The captain replied with a small laugh.  
They both walked down the stairs and went to the council house. They knocked and the house steward answered. The steward let them in and showed them where to stand. The house was full of people from house Hlaalu. Some he recognized from home then he saw Nephelle’s father dressed at his finest walking to the bottom of the stairs.   
Methal could feel his heart begin to race. She had planned a surprise for him and the wedding announcement. He then quickly made sure his armor looked clean taking out a small cloth and wiping down his face plate and chest piece as best as he could. His captain caught his attention by letting out a small cough and pointed where he needed to stand by the front door. They both walked to it and stood at attention. Nephelle’s father gently hit his glass with a fork drawing attention from all. Nephelle walked down the stairs looking radiant from head to toe. Her mud red hair pulled back its tail crossing over her shoulder down her chest the gown she wore a shimmering silver. She walked down extending her hand only to have it taken by another well-dressed Dunmer man.  
“Today is a great day indeed!” Nephelle’s father proclaimed as he stood in front of the couple facing the audience, “Today house Hlaalu and house Redoran will be joined by my daughter Nephelle and house Redoran’s Bayln!”  
Applause erupted from the house. Methal quickly stepped outside and vomited through his mask.

End Part II


	3. An Ordinator's Tail Part III

An Ordinator’s Tail  
Part III

Methal sat at his desk his head resting against his left hand helmet held by his right by the stiff plume, still brooding over the mornings events. He lied to his captain about his sickness just outside the Hlaalu manor.   
How could she do this to me?  
That was the thought that kept going through his mind. She could have let him know. A letter, personal message, anything would have been better than to find out how he did. Methal leaned back in his chair craning his head back groaning.  
“That bitch.” Methal growled as he threw his helmet against the wall sitting up. It let out a gong like sound as it hit the wall then the floor.  
Methal stood and changed out of his armor hanging it on the rack by his bed, polished it, picked up his helmet and did the same with it after cleaning it out first. He changed for bed and laid down. He let out another sigh covering his face with his hands. Methal eventually fell asleep his dreams troubled with images of his former lover in the arms of her future husband. Before he awoke he swore he heard his father’s voice whisper,  
“Remember to be faithful to her son. She will watch as you serve the Tribunal.”  
***  
Methal stood back and admired his handy work. He had removed a small section of the wall and constructed a shrine to Azura. Before he started he went to the mages guild and picked up a small statue of her from one of the members along with a portion of glow dust. He placed the statue on a silver plate along with the dust. Methal then went to his armor and pulled out a little pouch. He opened it and placed two of his grandfather’s knuckle bones on the plate as well. That was the personal item he had taken from home. His family like others often prayed to their ancestors for blessings or wisdom, it was cultural hold over when Ashlanders and Dunmer were on equal social status. His father often told he and his brothers were decedent of a group that lived on Azura’s coast. Feeling satisfied he placed the shrine back in the wall and covered it. Of all the things that could happen now he didn’t need his captain or anyone else for that matter finding out that he worshipped Daedra. While not illegal it would be frowned upon by the others he served with. From that day forward he would pray to Azura during the dawn and dusk for direction and wisdom of his actions. His father was right, Daedra must have a sense of humor only they understand.  
***  
3rd era 360, 21st First Seed  
Methal was watering his saltrice and comberry crop in his back yard humming a hymn to Azura. Over his time spent in Balmora he got promoted to lieutenant and bought a house on the eastern side. Now overseeing the patrol roster but still working nights. This allowed him the time for worship before and after work. His promotion came with the extra details he had performed in service to the Tribunal. His latest, an investigation into a guar herd that was slaughtered, most were eaten. Both the Order of War and Inquisition were looking into the matter after he submitted his report a month ago.  
He finished with his plants and looked them over. He would harvest them and give a portion of the seeds in his offering at the shrine of Azura as he had the last eight years. The rest he would brew into homemade brandy and mazte for personal use. The other ordinators had gotten used to him bringing in bottles as gifts. He gathered a small sampling and took it into his house. As soon as he entered a sharp knock issued from his front door. He quickly placed the saltrice and comberries on the table next to his living room and opened the door. An unfamiliar Dunmer man stood on the other side. He wore plan clothing and couriers bag the only exception was the mark of the Order of Inquisition on his lapel.  
“May I come in?” The Dunmer asked.  
“Yes of course muthsera.” Methal answered allowing his guest to enter.  
The Dunmer walked inside of his house stopping in the living room and looked around taking in the modest setting.  
“Would you care for a bottle of mazte muthsera?” Methal asked as he closed the door and followed his guest, “I just brewed it a few days ago.”  
“Yes please.” The Dunmer said now pulling out a letter from his bag, then sat on the couch. “I have news from your investigation.”  
Methal nodded and fetched them both a bottle. He returned to the living room and handed his guest his drink then sat across from him in a chair.  
“Good or bad?” Methal asked before taking a sip.  
“Good. We found out through several interrogations that the culprit behind that slaughter was a Nord.” The Dunmer stated placing the letter down and taking a sip, now looking surprised from the taste, “You brewed this?”  
Methal nodded enjoying the approval from his guest.  
“I only wish the temple’s priests had this kind of talent in making potions.” The Dunmer continued between drinks, “Both orders found it strange that a foreigner had managed to come to Vvardenfell without notice. This has the stink of Daedra all over it.”  
Methal nodded, Vvardenfell’s borders were patrolled heavily and under the current king it was considered a protected preserve. The Dunmer finished his drink putting the empty bottle on the table.  
“This comes from the High Fane. We need to show that Ordinator’s are the law of the Tribunal and can maintain the peace and control our borders.” The Dunmer said then pointed to the letter on the table, “I know that you are on furlough for this week, but this will only take one night. Your orders are in the letter.” The Dunmer stood to leave.  
Methal walked his guest to the door. Methal then walked back to the table picked up the letter and read it. He refolded it and went to his armor stand and put on his armor. After doing this he placed his grandfather’s knuckle bones and the some of the comberries and saltrice in a pouch hanging it from his belt. He also grabbed some books to pass the time. It would take a few hours to get to his destination.  
***  
Kjer Alarkesen stood with his fellow huntsmen in the antechamber next to a shrine to Hircine. His small group of two had steadily grown into ten. They hid in the Uvirith's Grave next to Tel Uvirith. Everything was going as planned. He was the only one with the gift of Hircine and it suited him. It gave him power over the others. Tonight, they would attempt to summon Hircine to gain his favor. The first offering was the guar herd. The fool hardy adventurer he had hunted and captured was the next.  
Kjer wore animal skins from fresh kills which still reeked of slaughter. He was tall and muscled as most Nords were, his hair wild and matted with blood. He brandished the ceremonial dagger as he walked to the alter. The others in his cult praying to the Daedric Prince of the hunt. He stopped over the offering holding his hands up for the others to stop their chants.  
“I have proven myself the superior hunter this night by catching this prey alive!” Kjer proclaimed, then turned to the shrine. “Hircine! Hear me Prince of the hunt! Your loyal servants wish to please you only further!!”   
Kjer turned to the alter where the adventurer lay bound by the sinew of slain guar. The Dunmer man’s cries for help muffled by his gag. Kjer quickly raised the dagger with both hands taking aim for the heart.  
“Show us a new hunting ground for your loyal servants! We ask only to hunt new prey!!”  
Kjer plunged the dagger into the sacrifice, the Dunmer’s eyes went wide with pain then glassy as his heart stopped beating.  
A thunderous boom erupted from the chamber and a portal opened. All of the followers stood and gave praise as the ceremony had worked. The portal that opened showed them a land covered in snow. It was Solstheim the frozen land to the north of Vvardenfell.  
“Hircine has heard us! We will hunt-“  
The large doors to the shrine suddenly blew open. The huntsmen moved closer to the alter from the surprise. Ten Ordinators stormed in readied shields and spells.  
“You are under arrest for heresy under Tribunal law! You will submit and be taken to the Ministry of Truth!” One of the Ordinators yelled.  
Kjer’ eyes narrowed then gave a satisfied grin.  
“Hircine has blessed us with more prey!” Kjer commanded pointing his dagger at the interlopers. “Kill them!”  
The huntsmen pulled weapons and charged against the Ordinators. The Ordinators unleashed a wave of fire and lightening against the cult members. Several fell dead from the initial attack. Now the Ordinators pulled the ebony maces from their belts and closed the gap meeting the fool hardy charge. One was smashed across the shoulder the white-collar bone ripping the skin on its exit. Another was slain when an Ordinator parried an attack sweeping the attackers leg then bringing the mace down on the attacker’s face causing the head to explode like a ripe melon.  
***  
Through the blood and chaos Methal covered his partner from another attack. The sword swing clanged against his shield he followed up pushing the sword aside leaving an opening crashing his mace into the ribcage. He heard as bone splintered and the cult member let out a gout of blood from her mouth.   
“Down!” His partner yelled turning to him.  
Methal knelt his comrade swung his mace with both hands catching one of the cult members across the face as he lunged at him. Methal could feel the blood splatter against his helmet and back. He stood and covered his friends flank catching another member of this cult trying to stab his comrade in the back. Methal rushed the attacker with his shield pushing him to the wall, the sound of more bones breaking followed during impact. The cultist fell to the floor he turned to see Kjer walking to the portal which now started to crackle as it lost power. He looked over his shoulder his partner kept the line tight keeping anyone from escaping. He charged for Kjer. This cult would end here. He closed the distance raising his mace to strike, Kjer turned at the last second his left hand already in the portal. Methal swung and missed hitting the portal’s edge with his ebony mace. Energy surged through both him and Kjer as the metallic properties of the mace disrupted the flow of energy. Methal went limp still carried by the force of his charge pushing him and Kjer into the portal. As they did so his last sight was of blinding light and the sound of maniacal laughter. Then darkness.  
***  
Methal let out a cough as his eyes started to open. The view from his helmet albeit blurry showed him grass and flowers. He tried to move but found he couldn’t. His body stiff from the energies of the portal or severe injury he couldn’t tell. His vision went blurry from the unbearable pain he was in. He gritted his teeth from it. Then he heard voices approaching. The language was unfamiliar to him. Whoever or whatever was coming closer. He could feel himself starting to black out again. His breathing becoming lighter, his eyes losing more focus. Darkness again. Through the darkness he heard hooves fall in front of him, then a small voice spoke.  
“Gloria Missa? Licuit mihi?”  
Methal could only let out a pained groan.  
“Auxilium! Auxilium!” The small voice called out as the hoof falls suddenly left.  
Methal felt himself slip further into the darkness.  
End part III


End file.
